


Still Getting Later

by deliciousshame



Category: Tokyo Ghoul
Genre: Dom/sub Undertones, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Tokyo Ghoul: re
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-06
Updated: 2015-04-06
Packaged: 2018-03-21 11:25:00
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3690453
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/deliciousshame/pseuds/deliciousshame
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Haise only came to deliver a book. Honest. </p><p>... so maybe he had other ideas.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Still Getting Later

A fist to his face, dodged at the last second. He manages to turn the fall he almost took into a successful feint, one that Arima-san evades likes it’s nothing, just like the kick that follows. He can tell his next attack will fail before it’s launched, its timing faulty, its technique sloppy. He ends up on the floor for his trouble, Arima-san’s booted foot on the back of his neck. He’s sadly more familiar with this type of situation than he’d prefer. “I forfeit. Please give me a break, Arima-san.” He wasn’t here for this, and yet, the book he came to deliver lies on the floor, swiftly forgotten when Arima-san had made his intentions known. 

Arima-san just presses harder. “Only if you manage to win.”

Haise sighs. Arima-san, Akira-san and their unrealistic expectations. “I understand. Since I won’t be doing that tonight, please let me go?” 

If only the full weight of his attention, the constant knowledge that someone that much stronger had him within his grasp, disappeared along the weight of his foot. Maybe things would be easier. “Of course.”

Haise rises and tries to get back some sense of composure after being so soundly trashed, again. “I did come here with a purpose, you know. If you had let me, I’d have given you the book you had asked for the other day.”

“This late?”

Haise doesn’t know why he bothers. He can’t fool Arima-san, especially not with excuses this blatant.

It is late, but Arima-san would definitely still be awake. He can’t say he didn’t have other ideas, but Haise would never dare to make the first move. No one rational would impose anything on Arima Kishou. He can only suggest and observe whether Arima-san will take him on his thinly veiled offer. 

Arima-san’s strong fingers close on his chin, forcing his head up. Even a gesture this small makes Haise’s heart race, but he forces himself to stay still and bear the scrutiny. Anything else will be interpreted as weakness and will result in him being sent home, alone. 

He knows he has been found worthy when his head is tilted further and lips are pressed against his. He opens up without having to be told, letting Arima-san in without resistance. He doesn’t protest, not when he bites, not when Arima-san’s hand moves from his chin to his hair, tangles and pulls, not even when he breaks the kiss to observe his handiwork, Haise already flushed, his breathing too fast for a few seconds of kissing. That’s the effect Arima-san has on him, leaving him helpless with but a few touches. 

How lucky for him that Arima-san likes it. 

He’s being pushed down. He finds himself kneeling in front of Arima-san. He compels his hands not to shake in anticipation as he unfastens his pants, his mouth not to salivate too much, his instincts not to overtake him. He has to deserve this. There’s trust here, a man like Arima-san letting a ghoul, him, this close, and that’s almost as heady as being under his power. 

Haise gets to work as soon as Arima-san is freed from the constraints of his clothes, tongue briefly playing along the length before his lips spread to welcome him. The taste is always just short of too much, living flesh on his tongue forever testing his resolve not to bite, even if it would mean forfeiting his life. He focuses on the firm hold on his hair, guiding him as he takes everything in, as Arima-san forces himself deeper, deeper, until a human would choke, but not a ghoul, and never him. He accepts everything he’s given and lets Arima-san fuck his throat. Any damage he could suffer would heal in instants anyway, and the rewards are worth any pain. 

He enjoys the flavor deepening as precome starts flowing in his mouth. The thrusts become harsher, only driving them both further.

The only warning he gets is Arima-san pulling him off his cock, letting only the head rest against his opened lips to watch himself come in Haise’s mouth. Haise closes his eyes in bliss as he makes a show of swallowing for his audience, revelling in Arima-san’s taste flooding his mouth.

Like every time he does this, he only becomes conscious of his own arousal after Arima-san’s needs have been met. He’s uncomfortably hard, his erection pressing desperately against his pants, leaking. He fists his hands and looks at Arima-san, his eyes silently pleading for what he isn’t allowed to ask.

Arima-san is as unreadable as always, but he still shakes his head in what Haise knows by now is permission. He doesn’t need more to open his pants and start touching himself, Arima-san’s taste still lingering, heavy, on his tongue. A few strokes are all it takes, Arima-san’s stare almost as powerful as his hands over his flesh as he spreads his thighs wide for his pleasure. He comes, silently, no one can be allowed to hear them, Arima-san’s name not having to be said to resonate through the room.

Arima-san’s hand on him is now gentle like it never is during sex, providing soothing caresses and guiding him toward the bathroom as Haise tries to catch his breath and settles down. These are the only moments where Arima-san shows tenderness, and Haise cherishes them at least as much as he does what comes before. His kisses are sweet then, his touch kind as he divests them both of their remaining clothes to wash them clean, wiping their combined smell off their bodies, a pity if you ask Haise. 

After, well, after was always different. Sometimes he was sent home. Sometimes he could stay as long as he left early enough. Sometimes, and Haise really was lucky tonight because it was one of those times, Arima-san’s touch couldn’t stay kind. His fingers found their way on Haise’s skin, spreading welcome heat all over his body again, leaving him aching, ready for more. 

He couldn’t wait to find out what “more” would be tonight.

**Author's Note:**

> I finished reading Tokyo Ghoul, and I was fine. I knew I wasn't going to write fics for it, which was nice because I have more AoKuro to write. 
> 
> Then I read :re. 
> 
> I just hope this short thing will be enough for my plot bunnies.


End file.
